


not just a house call

by Ren (FahRENheit2006)



Series: not just friends (but what i want most) [7]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Caretaking, Cooking, Dialogue, Domestic Fluff, Driving, F/F, Fluff, Gap Filler, Headcanon, Ice Cream, Injury, tour guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13445217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahRENheit2006/pseuds/Ren
Summary: Wherein Nicole tends to her girlfriend(?) who got shot(!). And tries to get some answers on why everything Earp is so insane all the time. Alone time together with Waverly at the Homestead for the first time is pretty complicated, but nice all the same.Takes place between 1x11 and 1x12. Rather detailed description of a gunshot wound.





	not just a house call

**Author's Note:**

> Throwback mention to one of my "just friends" fics: [just blowing off steam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101691).

Standing on the wide front porch, Nicole Haught stared out at the stretch of land that made up the Earp Homestead.

Early morning sunlight sparkled across a fresh powder of snow. Surrounding the old-fashioned ranch house was a recently repaired wood fence, a few sparse ponderosa pine and aspen trees, and a truck posted up on cinder blocks and covered with a tarp. A wagon filled with old fence posts was parked off to the side, snow clinging to the exposed wood.

The length of the nearby barn was lined with chopped firewood, about a third of it consumed as the winter waned on. In the distance, a dark valley hinted at a frozen-over pond not too far from a mound of stone (probably a well for water). And welcoming all to the property was the large wooden archway at the entrance with a hand-carved slat that simply said: “EARP.”

It was a beautiful place, really.

Nicole just wished she could visit this place under better circumstances.

This marked her second visit to the Earp property following the scene of a crime.

The first time had felt like forever ago (then again, everything pre-Waverly seemed like an echo of a different life). Taking statements from Waverly and Chrissy Nedley, noting the dead bodies inside and outside the house, dealing with Wynonna being evasive about the whole thing… It would have seemed like a nightmare—if the **real** nightmare hadn’t occurred immediately after.

Rubbing her eyebrow, Nicole felt a phantom pain at her forehead and right hand where she’d been attacked. Her dreams about Jack of Knives had finally started to fade, though possibly because she had something better to dream about lately.

And this time, Nicole wasn’t here as a cop (though part of her wished she **was** just to find out why this kept **happening** to the Earps).

If only so Nicole could be better equipped to protect—

“Hey you.”

At the familiar voice, Nicole turned her head towards the chipped, blue front door that was now open. Warm relief caught in Nicole’s throat when she saw the woman.

Clad in pink house slippers, striped workout pants and a faded PHS Cheerleading shirt under a long knit sweater, Waverly Earp was busy finishing a loose side braid to tame that long hair. Her left elbow held the door ajar, her smile radiant. Nicole noted the dark circles under Waverly’s eyes and a slightly paler complexion than usual.

_Oh Waverly…_

Smiling broadly, Nicole walked forward to pull Waverly into a (careful) hug. Hands immediately snaked around Nicole’s waist as she wrapped her arms around Waverly’s shoulders. Nicole stroked Waverly’s hair as the woman’s head fell into its familiar spot tucked against her collarbone. The open door dug into Nicole’s shoulder, but she didn’t care in the slightest.

They held each other for a few long moments.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Waverly sighed, her breath tickling Nicole’s neck.

Nicole spoke to the top of Waverly’s head. “I’m happy you’re okay, baby.”

A bitter laugh. “…More or less.”

Smoothing her hands along Waverly’s back, Nicole kissed her temple and took a small step back. But Waverly closed the space with a hungry kiss, her eyes shut tight. Nicole thought she saw a small tear run down Waverly’s cheek, but returned the kiss with fervor. Her hands ran down Waverly’s shoulders to her arms to rub warmth back into them.

When they finally pulled apart, Waverly did indeed wipe a thumb at her cheek before smiling. She rolled her eyes and gave a fretful sigh. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Nicole. I wish it—I wish I—“

“Wave,” Nicole interrupted, shaking her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. That’s what—” _Girlfriends?_ “—best friends are for, right?” She smiled.

Waverly scowled as she deadpanned, “Oh, you mean nursing each other’s gunshot wounds?” She cringed a little at the g-word, then her eyes widened in worry. “Oh God! You’re a cop! **You** could get shot! …Have you ever been shot?? Oh God… I don’t know what I’d do if…” Trailing off, Waverly started anxiously rubbing the sleeves of her sweater together with her palms.

“I have **not** been shot, no,” Nicole confirmed, though she paused before clarifying. “I mean… **technically** , I have?” She rushed to clarify when Waverly’s hazel eyes flashed in panic. “It was in Academy! Training! We wore bulletproof vests and got hit with beanbag rounds to simulate what it would feel like and how to react. Same with getting tazed.” Reaching out, Nicole ran a finger down Waverly’s side braid in reassurance. “But since becoming a cop: **no,** I haven’t.”

_Not **yet** , anyway. Risk comes with the job._

_Maybe—maybe I’ll be lucky._

Waverly gave an explosive sigh through a jutting lip, which wafted loose tendrils around her face. Her eyes playfully narrowed. “ **Good**. You better **stay** that way.”

Nicole arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. “I could say the same thing about **you**. Something something glass houses?”

That scowl returned along with a blush. “Fair enough. …Care to come in and stay awhile?” Waverly’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

Nodding, Nicole leaned in to give Waverly a quick kiss before gesturing next to the front door. A pair of tan, bulging bags sat waiting. “I brought a bounty of **all** the best things. **Something’s** gonna make you feel better.”

“I already do,” Waverly said simply. “You’re here.” A sweet crinkle of a smile went from Waverly’s cheeks all the way to her eyes.

 _Just heavenly_.

Hefting the large canvas bags, Nicole brought her haul inside and left it next to the refrigerator before depositing her large green coat and black boots next to the door.

The youngest Earp offered Nicole a proper tour of the Homestead (rather than the professional inspection Nicole had done in the line of duty after the “stripper attack”). Waverly was apologetic over the mess.

Nicole’s cop instincts noted some attempts at covering destruction. Boards over windows. Missing picture frames and what looked like bullet holes in the walls. Blankets thrown over furniture barely hid tatters. The room smelled faintly of sawdust and smoke (not from a fire, but more like something acrid... _artificial_...).

_…Like a smoke bomb?_

_Oh God, what **happened** here_ _?_ _?_

Nicole bit her lip against the sea of questions in her mind.

_Patience... Make sure she's okay first..._

**Otherwise** , the ranch house was cozy. Downstairs held a blue kitchen, a living room full of old sofas worn with use, a sitting room and a spare bathroom. The upstairs led to a trio of bedrooms and a guest bathroom. The master bedroom had been taken over by Wynonna (and was locked tight), another bedroom was a shrine to a 13-year-old Willa, while Waverly’s room was a strange mix of adult furniture with childhood wall decorations that she hadn’t gotten around to updating.

Apparently Young Waverly had really liked horses.

_The unicorn makes sense._

As they started to head down, Nicole noticed that Waverly had gotten paler and seemed to be gritting her teeth.

“Wave. Are you okay?”

A pained swallow. “Fine. Need to take some meds and I’m probably due for a bandage change.”

Waverly pulled at the lapel of her sweater and Nicole could indeed see a small stain of blood peeking through on her worn t-shirt, right around her ribs.

_Oh God… **Wave** …_

“Can I help? I brought a first aid kit just in case.” Nicole gave what she hoped was a kind smile. “And breakfast tacos to heal anything else that might ail ya.”

“Are you sure? I think—I think I can do it. It’s just—uh—hard…” Waverly trailed off, those pale cheeks briefly reddening.

Grabbing at the woman’s hand, Nicole squeezed. “Hey. Let me take care of you, okay?" Waverly nodded and turned with a small smile, her eyes watery for a second.

Nicole had Waverly sit on the couch so she could be comfortable before retrieving a first aid kit from one of the canvas bags. It was an official-looking red metal tin with a white cross on top.

As Nicole knelt down next to Waverly, the woman wolf-whistled at the large toolbox of a kit. “Used that often?”

“First time since emergency management training,” Nicole admitted. “But everything should be stocked and sterile and all that.” Opening the case, the kit was tightly packed with gauze, antiseptic, alcohol swabs, burn sprays, sutures, sterile scissors, even a collection of pain medications.

Nicole reached for a thin, flat box first to pull on a pair of sterile gloves. She wiggled green fingers at Waverly. “They’re latex-free, in case you’re allergic.”

Waverly bit her lower lip in intrigue as she watched Nicole work. “Good to know. And I am not, by the way. Allergic.”

_Good to know._

“May I?” Nicole gestured at the woman’s shirt.

Pushing the sweater off her shoulders first, Nicole started to roll the bottom of Waverly’s shirt upward. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on Nicole. Especially as each inch of shirt revealed smooth, muscled abs. Tan and soft and perfect.

_Keep it together, Haught. Keep it togetherrrrr…_

She might have been holding her breath. It was better than swooning like a moron. Nicole cleared her throat and deliberately avoided eye contact. But her peripheral vision still caught an amused, sly smile from the patient.

Around sternum-high just below the right breast, Nicole found the culprit. A gauze covering was damp with blood. Waverly held her shirt while Nicole examined the wound by carefully peeling off the tape and rolling back the old wrap.

It was indeed a gunshot from a large caliber round (like a 5.56mm or so). The skin was bruised and puckered around a 2-inch-long laceration, the pink muscle below raw and glistening. Bubbles of blood were already starting to form along the swatch of exposed skin, which was almost hot to the touch.

Not a deep wound ( _thank God_ ), but definitely a worrisome one. Nicole heard a hiss of pain from Waverly as her fingers gently probed around the area where the skin was a ragged red from burst blood vessels. “…Sorry,” Nicole cringed in apology.

“It’s okay,” Waverly affirmed through clenched teeth, her smile weak.

Working quickly, Nicole swabbed the area with hydrogen peroxide before wiping it away with a sterile pad to minimize Waverly’s discomfort. “Sorry, just making sure nothing gets infected.”

“How does it look? I can’t really see,” Waverly said as she tried to lean her head forward. She jostled her chin slightly to demonstrate the awkward angle.

“Well, if I’m being honest: terrible.” At Waverly’s horrified look, Nicole corrected, “Er, I mean it’s clean and seems to be healing. Just terrible that this had to happen to you.” Nicole smiled sadly.

_Oh Wave—Baby. How did this **happen** to you?_

A fresh gauze pad was covered in antibacterial ointment. Nicole was delicate as she held it to the wound, then taped a gauze wrap in place over it. Her gloves snapped as she peeled them off and gathered up the trash in a tight ball.

“You’re good at that,” Waverly commented. “Much better than Wynonna or Dolls, anyway.”

“Thanks, though I don’t know if that’s something I **want** to be good at.” Nicole arched an eyebrow as she stood up.

Reaching out, Waverly pulled Nicole down to the couch so they could sit together. Waverly leaned her weight into Nicole’s side, her head craning to the left to fit on Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole wrapped an arm around Waverly and played with the braid at her neck. Her hair smelled really good.

“How are you doing?” Nicole asked, nuzzling her cheek against Waverly’s temple.

Wrinkling her nose, Waverly’s voice was a forced chirp. “Great! My house got shot up by jerks, I can’t say anything right to my long-lost sister, Wynonna and Dolls are doing God-knows-what to try and get Willa to remember anything, and I’m stuck at home for God-knows-how-long until they figure out who betrayed BBD. It’s a perfect Friday.”

“…It’s Tuesday, Wave.”

A small pause, then Waverly scowled. “Dammit, it **is** Tuesday. God, I’m starting to sound like Wynonna.” She groaned.

“I don’t think you swear enough for that. **Or** drink enough,” Nicole observed.

“I guess I have time to remedy that while I’m home,” Waverly retorted dryly.

“Please don’t. The world does **not** need two Wynonnas. It **definitely** needs a Waverly.”

“You think?”

Nicole smiled. “Well, **my** world definitely does.”

A bashful exhale-laugh. “Mine, too.” Waverly made a fretful frown before she corrected herself. “Uh—I mean, my world needs a Nicole.”

“Good.”

Sitting in peaceful silence, Nicole continued stroking Waverly’s hair while Waverly rolled her fingers over Nicole’s right thigh. Waverly occasionally rubbed her forehead against Nicole’s chin. They might have held there longer, but suddenly a loud gurgling sound from Waverly’s stomach broke the quiet.

Nicole chuckled and flicked at Waverly’s shoulder. “I **do** have magic breakfast tacos, remember.”

“Oh yea?”

“Yea, this girl I really liked turned me on to ‘em around a month back.”

“’Liked?’ Past tense? What happened?” Waverly said with mock-concern.

“She liked me back.”

Waverly’s mouth pulled downward in a pleased smile as her eyes sparkled. “Smart girl.”

“Very. How do you feel about tea?” Nicole offered before pushing off of the sofa.

“I love... tea.” There was a change in that sparkle, as Waverly's hazel eyes seemed more brown suddenly. Richer, deeper. She looked like she was about to say something, but instead gave a crinkling smile.

Extending a hand, Nicole helped ease Waverly up out of the couch. The woman did wince slightly but waved off Nicole’s concern.

With a snap, Nicole closed the first aid kit and picked up by the handle. She handed a small packet of ibuprofen over to Waverly then guided the woman over to the round kitchen table. She held out a chair and tucked Waverly snugly in at the table before busying herself in the unfamiliar kitchen.

She could almost feel Waverly’s worried stare boring into her back.

“Are you sure I can’t help you? Like put something away or make tea or—?”

 _I knew she’d hate sitting still,_ Nicole chuckled inwardly.

“Sit down and relax, Earp,” Nicole admonished. She tossed her ponytail at Waverly. “You cleaned up **my** kitchen last time, remember? Let me take care of you.”

To Waverly's credit, she let Nicole open and close most of the cabinets before giving verbal guidance to the location of the tea kettle and remaining cups. Putting the kettle on the stove, Nicole then stowed her groceries in the pantry and refrigerator. A paper bag she brought to the kitchen table along with a box of tea bags.

"Am I allowed to ask what you brought?" Waverly asked, bouncing in her chair with childish curiosity.

_Just heavenly. And adorable._

Patting the sack and box, Nicole started listing off. "Breakfast tacos and chamomile tea." She threw a thumb at the fridge. "Some essentials like milk, eggs, and bread. Plus stuff to make a lasagna. And the biggest essential of all: ice cream."

"Ooo, what kind?"

Nicole started loudly emptying the paper sack on the table to avoid the question. "Oh, you know... So! Potato and egg for you. I wasn't sure where you stood on the hot sauce topic, but I grabbed mild, medium and hot."

"Is our relationship ready for this debate?" Waverly teased with wide eyes and a slanted smile.

_...Relationship..._

"I'm in if you are, Earp."

Reaching forward, Waverly snagged a pair of the bright orange packets. "Oh, I like it Haught." Her pleased grin was nothing short of shit-eating as she unwrapped a taco and unleashed a stream of deep red liquid on it.

Shaking her head, Nicole cringed at the pun but chuckled. "Glad to hear it. I prefer medium. I like to be able to taste my food." She shot Waverly a faux-judgmental glance before ripping open a green packet.

"You get used to it," Waverly winked. "I did. You can thank—or blame—Wynonna for that. She kept sneaking spicy stuff into everything I was cooking that I just learned to live with it." Staring at her ball of tinfoil, Waverly's gaze was far-off, her smile fond. A few blinks brought Waverly back. "So."

"Guess I better up my game then," Nicole teased.

"You **better** if you plan on sticking around," Waverly returned with a smile, but a worried line suddenly crossed her brow. There was also a twitch in a chiseled cheek.

Nicole's hand reached forward to reassuringly stroke her wrist. "Challenge accepted. …Just try not to burn my tongue off."

Waverly's gaze very obviously flicked to Nicole's lips then back to her eyes with a crinkle. "Noted."

The squealing kettle broke their intense stare as both women turned to the stove. Reluctantly releasing Waverly's wrist, Nicole pushed herself away from the table to fetch the hot water. She readied a pair of chamomile teas before returning.

Nicole asked, "How is Wynonna? ...And I guess Willa?"

A petulant shrug. "Both at BBD with Dolls. They're—ah—They’re trying to figure out who’s out to get them. And trying to help Willa remember... about what happened after she disappeared." At Nicole's baffled look, Waverly chewed her cheek. "After Daddy got shot and—all that in between. Dolls is trying to help her remember."

_Weird priorities. Maybe a favor to Wynonna? …Hm._

_More questions._

"Dolls doesn't strike me as a licensed psychologist," Nicole said dryly.

"Me either," Waverly agreed. Her small smile was kind. "He's—He's a good guy, though. He'll help. He'll do everything he can to, anyway."

"If you say so." It wasn't that Nicole didn't believe Waverly. It was just a slow burn to forget how rude the Deputy Marshall had been to Nicole when they'd first met.

 _But if Waverly thinks he's a good guy... then he probably is,_ Nicole decided with an inward, conceding shrug.

A few sips of tea and bites of tacos later, Nicole finally worked up the courage to ask one of her more pressing questions. “Waverly… what **happened**? How did you get shot?” Her eyes flicked to Waverly’s ribs in worry (and, admittedly, to the low neckline of her shirt) before returning to her eyes.

Sighing, Waverly started to rub her sweater sleeves against her palms again. A tired expression settled over her face (making her look a great deal like Wynonna). “I don’t… I don’t even know. I mean, where do I start?” She wrinkled her nose and looked at the ceiling. “I think—I think the last thing I texted you about was… Willa?”

“At Shorty’s. That she’d started a bar fight with Wynonna,” Nicole confirmed.

Nicole had heard passing conversation about it later while she was out getting the groceries. Something about “That crazy Earp girl at it again makin’ trouble” and “Heard a couple girls got into it with Bobo’s guys.” She had also heard that someone had been shot, but Nicole checked both police and hospital reports in her patrol car to dispute that rumor. Not a word of any injuries other than bruised egos.

_Strange._

_Just like everything else in Purgatory._

“Right,” Waverly nodded. “We came back to the Homestead after. Dolls and Willa got into it. Upset Wynonna so bad that she ran outside to clear her head in the barn.”

“Musta been pretty big for Wynonna to lose her cool,” Nicole observed with a smile. As much as the older Earp irked Nicole, she did have some admiration for the woman’s stubbornness.

Scrunching up her face, Waverly sighed. “Yea. She was always the go-between, trying to keep the peace. With Willa and me. With Daddy. And now with Dolls and Doc… wherever **he** is.” The pained expression deepened. “Willa went to check on Wynonna. And I—I wanted to help. So, I started tea and went to go see her in the barn too, and—and…”

Nicole reached over to bump her fingers against Waverly’s in consolation. “Waverly…”

Waverly closed her eyes, seemingly bracing herself. And then she exploded. “I **heard** them! They were talking like I didn’t even exist! That Wynonna was **all** alone until Willa came back!” Her voice had pitched up in uncharacteristic sarcasm before continuing. “That **Willa** could just—would just—And Wynonna just—!“

Those hazel eyes were glassy with misery. “Willa never wanted me. She always made that crystal clear. ‘Everything was perfect til you came along,’ she used to say. I was hoping maybe I just—I dunno—remembered it wrong? But… same old Willa,” Waverly spat with venom.

Tilting her head, Nicole started to pull her hand away before Waverly surged forward to grip that hand tight. Waverly looked manic. “I just… Nicole, what if Wynonna doesn’t need me anymore? Or want me? Or want my help? What if she leaves again? Or what if she makes me leave? I don’t—I don’t know if I—I’ve never—” Her breathing had turned shallow from the torrent of words.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Nicole interjected with a squeeze back. “What are you talking about? ‘Wynonna won’t need or want you?’ I bet—no, I **know** —that you’re the best sister anyone could ever have. Do you—do you think you’re getting replaced? Or…?” She couldn’t quite figure out what Waverly’s worry stemmed from based on her cryptic phrasing.

_“Want my help” with what? …Why would Wynonna ever make Waverly leave Purgatory? What does Waverly do that she feels she wouldn’t be needed for?_

_Languages. Research. Government business. Weird shit in Purgatory. Wynonna in the middle of it. And Waverly? Where did she fit in? On top of all the complicated family stuff?_

_More questions._

Pulling her hand away, Waverly pushed back in her chair and slumped her neck over the back, chin pointed at the ceiling. “I don’t knowwww,” she moaned fretfully. “It’s just been so **hard** lately with everything going on. We were just starting to get a handle on some of the BBD cases and now it’s all gone to crap. Doc’s gone. Shorty’s is gone. Someone in BBD is out to get us. Willa’s really the—I mean, Willa might have more to do with things. I don’t **know**.”

 _Willa’s really the **what**? _ Nicole bit her lip against all the new questions she was racking up.

“Waverly. We’ll find Doc. And Shorty’s is just… temporary. You’ll be back behind the taps before you know it,” Nicole said with a teasing smile. “Or whatever else you wanna do. And Dolls and Wynonna— **and** you—will figure out what’s going on with BBD. Y’all helped crack that missing girls’ case, right? And everything else you guys have done the past few months? It’s… amazing.”

_From what little I’ve heard anyway._

Only a sniffle from Waverly in response, her head still slumped over the chair back.

Nicole continued, “I just wish it was less dangerous. Or I could do something to help. I **care** about you, Wave. And I worry about you.” _That’s what girlfriends do._ She took a long sip of her tea. “What happened after the barn?”

A shaky sigh before Waverly finally lifted her head again. She reached for her own cup of tea. “I slipped out and made tea for me and Dolls. He was—he was really nice.” A fond smile for a second, and then that line of worry again. “And then I—I don’t really remember much. Lots of gunshots. I think one of them threw a smoke grenade in the house that Dolls threw back? It was crazy. I remember I—I grabbed my shotgun and went to the kitchen to try and help. I did help! I got one of them! …And then they got me.” A sheepish scowl.

Shrugging her shoulders, Waverly crossed her arms. Her left hand gingerly touched her side. “I guess Wynonna and Willa got the drop on the rest and drove them away with Dolls’ help.” Her eyes flicked to Nicole’s, hooded with apology. “I swear, things aren’t usually this complicated. It’s just—I wish I could explain…”

“Can you try?” Nicole probed gently.

A fretful headshake. “I—I can’t. I promised. I’m sorry.” Leaning forward in her chair, Waverly stretched across the table to offer an open hand. “Please don’t be mad, Nicole. It’s important and I—I just can’t.”

“I’m not **mad** , I just—I don’t know if—“ Nicole paused to take a deep breath. She needed a moment to formulate words that didn’t come across as an ultimatum. “I don’t know how long I can be okay with being in the dark about all this,” she admitted slowly.

Nicole reached out and squeezed Waverly’s hand when the woman inhaled in protest (but remained silent). “It’s just that—It’s like I said: I care about you. And I worry. I **want** to be okay about all this, but it’s hard to be okay when I know there’s something bigger going on. I can’t protect you or be there for you if I don’t know… y’know?”

Sighing, Nicole stroked her thumb over the back of Waverly’s hand. “But I—I understand. I’m a cop, so I—I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. Just… promise me you’ll be **careful** , okay?” Her eyes flicked to Waverly’s side. “ **More** careful? Please, baby?”

A relieved, sunshine crinkle of a smile washed over Waverly’s face. “I promise!”

Standing up, Nicole moved to clean up their taco trash and dishes. She was stopped by a hand from Waverly, who grabbed her wrist and guided Nicole into an intense, grateful kiss. Fingertips gently stroked Nicole’s cheek before they pulled apart.

Nicole rested her forehead against Waverly’s a moment. The woman whispered a soft “Thank you” before leaving a peck on Nicole’s cheek. Nicole then gathered up their dishes and rinsed the cups in the sink.

Turning, Nicole leaned her backside against the kitchen counter as she dried her hands on a towel. “What do you say I get crackin’ on this lasagna and then we take a little drive around?”

“Yes, please!” Waverly chirped. “I can give you a tour of the Homestead property! I know everything about it! Did you know this is the original foundation Wyatt Earp dug with his own hands?” She knowingly tossed her side-braid over her shoulder. “Same with the archway. The rest of the house had to be remodeled by his son, Josiah, after a fire in the 1940s. The **barn** , though—“

With a laugh, Nicole held up her hands in surrender. “I believe you, I believe you! Save it for the tour!” She winked at Waverly. “I’m more of a visual learner, anyway. Need to see things to remember ‘em.”

“Good, cuz there’s gonna be a quiz later,” Waverly threatened with a return wink. She stood up in her chair with a slight wince. “You’re letting me help you with that lasagna.” Not a request but a demand.

Tilting her raised hands, Nicole shrugged as she moved to the fridge to retrieve her ingredients. “I don’t think I could stop you if I tried. Can I get a stock pot, a frying pan and the biggest baking dish you have? Hopefully this will last three Earps and a Dolls for a couple days.”

“Depends on the Earp. Wynonna eats like a horse,” Waverly shrugged back as she dug around the lower cabinets to retrieve the requested pot and pans. As Nicole accepted the stock pot, Waverly held on to the handle a moment, her smile thoughtful. “Thank you for doing this, Nicole. Just—all of this. Everything. I really appreciate it. And I’m **so** glad you’re here. …what are ‘best friends’ for, right?”

 _Right… our little joke._ It seemed less funny suddenly. For a couple of reasons.

“Uh, right. Sure thing,” Nicole replied a little awkwardly. She forced a smile. “Hope you don’t mind sharing a Third Date Lasagna with your sister—sisters…” _And Dolls._

A nose-wrinkle but Waverly brightened. “Depends on how good it is.”

Nicole bit back with good-natured sarcasm. “Uh, **very** good? You remember that pasta I made, right?”

Waverly’s short laugh was pure delight. “I **do**. It was **amazing**. …I **guess** I can be nice and share you—er, share your cooking.”

* * *

They worked in the kitchen so well together, it was almost enough for Nicole to start to forget that her—that **Waverly** —had been **shot**. There were occasional jarring reminders of reality: the boarded-up windows above the sink, dents and bullet holes in random spots _(…the ceiling? Really??),_ and a few errant pieces of glass that had made their way into one of the cutlery drawers.

Nicole had also made a brief examination of the oven and stove to make sure no wild bullets had severed any gas lines. Luckily, the oven primed to preheat with a clicking hiss and was not followed by the rotten smell of leaking natural gas.

_Thank heaven for some small favors._

Waverly was an excellent sous chef, particularly since she knew where everything in the kitchen was hidden away. The cutting board she fetched had an alarming chunk of wood taken out of the corner, but Nicole managed to dice the zucchini, yellow squash, onions and garlic with relative ease. Waverly prepped the noodles to boil before pan-frying the vegetables Nicole passed over to her.

The young Earp chatted about her favorite recipes as well as promises of delicious dishes she would cook for Nicole. “I make an awesome eggplant parmesan that even **Wynonna** can’t tell doesn’t have meat. Oh! And I’ve been dying to make some blueberry muffins. It’s been **forever** since I did any baking. I miss it.”

“Just a couple weeks,” Nicole reminded her. “Those banana muffins you made when we went to the gun range **were** pretty fantastic. I might have to concede Best Baker to you, but I am **not** gonna roll over so easy on Best Cook.” Nicole’s tone was a warning.

“Oh yea! …oh yea. That was—that was a… really good day.” Waverly gave a bashful, slanted smile as she stirred a spoon around the pan. Fresh basil leaves stripped from a (cracked) clay trough on a window sill were added along with a can of roasted tomatoes a few minutes later.

Continuing the conversation, Nicole countered with some of her favorite dishes, though most contained meat. She smiled to herself after wondering how long it would take to get used to dating a vegetarian. One of many things to get used to for a future together.

… _Together_ …

After assembling the layers of noodles, sauce, vegetables and cheese, Nicole popped the dish into the oven. A jingle of car keys drew Nicole’s attention to the entryway where Waverly stood holding her green coat. She was already wrapped in her own blue jacket and a familiar plaid scarf.

Nicole smiled as she finished setting her phone timer. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

Waverly shook the jacket enticingly. “Oh God, yes. I just want to leave the house for a bit. Need some fresh air. Then we can have a day in and watch trashy reality TV or something. Unless… you have somewhere to be.” Again with the worried line creasing her forehead.

Shrugging on the offered jacket, Nicole replied, “Only place I’m supposed to be is right here. Day off work and my gir—you—you need cheering up.”

 _God Damn it._ She’d slipped up. But Waverly didn’t seem to notice while she was pulling on her boots.

Waverly grabbed Nicole’s elbow and clung there as she dragged them both outside to the gravel driveway. They piled into her red Jeep and let it warm for a moment, commenting lightly on the weather. The air was still crisp and cool as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

The Homestead tour included copious Earp history peppered with memories from Waverly’s past. The nearby pet cemetery, a more recent addition, was mostly Waverly’s pets (hamsters and rabbits and the like). A young Ward had apparently kept dogs growing up, though he hadn’t allowed his daughters the same (which Waverly noted with bitterness).

“There’s always cats,” Nicole reminded her. “Start a new Earp tradition?”

“True!” Waverly chirped in agreement as she cut the wheel to meander to south side of the property. “Wouldn’t be a new tradition, though! Josiah Earp’s wife Emily kept a bunch of barn cats—Josiah built the barn in 1936 while he was remodeling the house—and one **even** managed to surprise a Rev—er… a, uh, Reverend who, uh, came to the house.” She trailed off as the Jeep bumped along a vague dirt road, snow kicking up off the fat all-terrain tires behind them.

Nicole wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Is that—is that all there is to the story?” _Because it’s not a very good one._

“Uh, yea. It was… exciting for the 30s, ya know,” Waverly evaded as her fingertips drummed on the steering wheel.

Nicole arched a skeptical brow. “Sure, sure…” She watched an old fence trail by for a few seconds before asking, “How long have you been researching all things Earp?”

“All things Purgatory, actually,” Waverly corrected. “And it feels like forever. Most of the basic Earp stuff I got from the library in like junior high, then in high school I’d go to the city to track down more obscure details. Letters, journals, old newspaper articles, that sort of thing. And eBay for most of the memorabilia.”

“Sounds like a labor of love.”

“It really is—was—is.”

* * *

The rest of the Homestead tour flew by in a blur. The well came with the property while the pond was added in the early 1900s. The land wasn’t great for farming, but Edwin Earp had made the most of it in the 60s (while Ward left it fallow as Purgatory grew). Each Earp had left their mark on the land in their own ways (Wyatt the lawman, Josiah the builder, Edwin the farmer, Ward returning to the lawman tradition, Wynonna… doing whatever is she does).

Nicole just loved listening to Waverly talk. It was hard not to keep stealing glances at the woman out of the corner of her eye. It was the most happy and animated Nicole had seen of Waverly in almost a week.

This was Waverly in her element: talking about everything Earp. And boy did she know a **lot**. Dates and anecdotes and surrounding lore. Just **everything**.

And that everything was just… _heavenly_. For a little while at least.

“Oh! And that’s where—what’s wrong?” Waverly stopped mid-sentence as the Jeep circled back around, a familiar red barn appearing over a distant hill.

Blinking, it took Nicole a second to register the question. “…What?”

“What’s wrong?” Waverly repeated, eyebrow quirked. “You’re making a weird face.”

“Oh… nothing. Just enjoying the view.” She smiled significantly at Waverly, who reddened (but grinned back).

“Oh! Uh, me too!”

Waverly’s right hand crept off the steering wheel to clasp at Nicole’s. Nicole squeezed back.

An alarm started gently chiming in Nicole’s jacket pocket. Not releasing Waverly’s hand, Nicole dug around and tapped a snooze for it.

“Guess we should head back,” Waverly commented. She wrinkled her nose. “Is it terrible that I’d rather just be out here with you?”

 _Less likely to get shot_ , Nicole thought inwardly. She smiled though. “We can always just keep going. Go all the way back to my house. …Though the lasagna will probably eventually catch fire and burn the Homestead down.”

“That’ll be tough to explain to Wynonna,” Waverly agreed.

“It’d ruin the ice cream I got for you, too,” Nicole commented lightly.

A light laugh from Waverly. “Yea, fire will do that. …What’d you bring? Because I could **kill** for some mint choco-chip. …I don’t know if you know this, but I had a **super** shitty day yesterday.”

“I might have heard something to that effect.”

“Did you also hear that this awesome woman I’m seeing stopped by? Thinks she can cook better than me, but she has other great qualities.” Waverly’s quip was warm with irony.

“One or two.” Nicole shrugged dismissively. “I heard a rumor she picked up matcha ice cream? And that it’s waiting back at the house?”

The Jeep jerked slightly as Waverly accidentally tapped the brakes. “Are you—are you joking right now?”

Grinning wide, Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hand again. She was pretty proud of this particular surprise. “I had to Google the place and got slightly lost, but luckily I made it before they closed.”

“We were supposed to go together!” The outrage in Waverly’s voice was overshadowed by a wide, awed smile.

“We still can. I just figured you could use it. Plus, **I** haven’t had any. I’m still waiting for our date.” Nicole smiled back. There was a tight, answering clasp on Nicole’s hand.

“Promise you didn’t sneak a free sample?”

Nicole offered a three-fingered Girl Scout sign. “Cross my heart.”

She wasn’t lying. Nicole had even driven back to Purgatory with her windows down, a gloved hand holding the pint outside so it wouldn’t melt. The shop had been just as cozy as Waverly had promised, a perfect table for two at the window waiting for their return. Together, this time.

The gesture flustered Waverly to the point of babbling. “That’s—I don’t—I was—It’s— **thank you** , Nicole.”

Nicole did her best to suppress how pleased she was with herself. “You’re **welcome** , Wave. You woulda done the same for me.”

Waverly’s response was barely above a whisper.

“In a heartbeat.”

When they returned to the house, a familiar black SUV was parked in the driveway. Waverly groaned with dismay, her delight so quickly clouded. She exchanged a worried look with Nicole, who had to resist the urge to kiss Waverly’s cheek to calm her down.

They took their time pulling the Jeep in next to Nicole’s cruiser. Hopping out first, Nicole helped Waverly get out of her Jeep (partly to be chivalrous and mostly for a valid excuse to hold her hand).

Just as Waverly set down on the crunching snow, the front door flew open with a bang.

A leather-clad Wynonna strode toward them, waving angrily. “What the **shit** , Waverly? You called the cops?! Do you have any idea—!!” She stopped when she saw Nicole. “Oh… **you**. You’re okay, I guess.”

“Uh, thanks?” Nicole replied awkwardly as she felt Waverly shrink away, their hands losing grip as Waverly clutched the back of her jacket.

“What have you told her??” Wynonna demanded, her scowl returning to Waverly.

The grip on Nicole’s jacket tightened as Waverly cleared her throat. “Just that we had a little scuffle at the house and everything’s a shit-show. You know: the **usual** , Wynonna.” The smaller woman glared back at her sister in challenge.

Nicole held up her hands in surrender. “I’m just here as—as a friend.” She shared a significant glance at Waverly, who just smiled softly. “I just know that something bad happened and she got hurt.” It was Nicole’s turn to glare at Wynonna.

Surprisingly, Wynonna backed off. There was no snarky one-liner, no spitting profanity demanding Nicole leave.

Instead Wynonna sobered, her tired eyes hooded in guilt with jaw clenched. She nodded in acknowledgement.

The front door banged a second time, this time from a different fiery woman. “ **More** people in on our business? Wynonna! You’re just gonna let—!”

The oldest—old **er** —Earp interrupted the newcomer. “She’s good, Willa.” Wynonna nodded at Nicole. “She’s **good**. She’s here for Waverly. That’s all. Right?”

“Here for Waverly,” Nicole echoed. Now moving behind Waverly, Nicole was able to hide the tight grip she resumed on the woman’s hand. A grip that had gotten tighter with the new arrival, as well as Waverly taking a small step back and leaning into Nicole.

 _So._ **_This_ ** _was Willa._

The resemblance was certainly there, though closer to Wynonna than Waverly. All the Earp daughters were beautiful in their own way.

Wynonna was a chiseled, untamed sort of beautiful. The sort walled away with snark and alcohol, but occasionally hinting at a soft, caring center. Usually just around Waverly (though Nicole had spotted it briefly on the police station floor between sips of bourbon).

Waverly was a warm, radiant brand of beautiful. Bubbly and unique, self-possessed with both strength and unyielding kindness. Pure, lovely light wrapped in a will of steel. 

This Willa could not be more the opposite of Waverly. Beautiful in a classic sort of way, with pouting lips and big blue eyes. But where Waverly was sunshine, Willa radiated ice. She held herself with a calculating, haughty presence that commanded attention.

It was hard not to immediately dislike the woman, and not just because of everything Waverly had told Nicole about her.

But… she **was** Waverly’s sister.

Escorting Waverly to the door, Nicole was intercepted by Wynonna while Willa loomed inward towards Waverly. Not willing to let herself be manipulated by either Earp Sister, Nicole turned to Waverly to ask loudly, “I need to check on that lasagna, but do you need me to come with you?”

“Oh, she’s fine,” Willa interrupted, her attempt at a charming smile not quite reaching her eyes. “She’s due for a bandage change. Right… sis?” That last word fell unfamiliarly from the corner of her mouth.

“I was talking to Waverly,” Nicole reminded Willa sweetly (and relished the flash of anger in the woman’s eyes). She wasn’t about to allow herself to be intimidated by Willa Earp.

Her smile small but determined, Waverly echoed, “It’s fine. Gotta make sure that lasagna doesn’t set the kitchen on fire, right? It’s been through enough.”

“And then some,” Nicole agreed. She allowed Wynonna to shadow her to the kitchen while Willa and Waverly sat down on the living room couch.

Nicole felt herself flinch at Willa’s graceless lifting of Waverly’s shirt to inspect the wound, reflecting back the panicked look Waverly gave her. Nicole nodded at the kitchen, wordlessly trying to tell Waverly: “ _I’ll be right there if you need anything.”_

Waverly seemed to get the message with an awkward but determined nod.

Padding over to the oven, the kitchen already smelled like roasted tomato and herbs. Nicole started rummaging in the drawers to look for an oven mitt just as Wynonna hissed in her ear.

“Why are you **really** here, Haught?”

Nicole shrugged as she shifted over to search the next drawer. “Not in uniform, Earp. Here for Waverly, like I said.”

“Uh-huh. And what about **Randy**?” Wynonna spat that last word with disdain, her blue eyes searching.

Rolling her eyes, Nicole straightened. “You know where the oven mitts are? …And it’s not the Sheriff’s business what I do on my day off.”

“You better not be a **nark**.”

“That would require me to **know** something to nark **about**.” Nicole sighed. She was tired of being on the outside looking in. “I don’t know what you’re knee-deep into, Wynonna. I wish I did. All I know is that whatever you **are** into got Waverly hurt.”

A flinch of pain. Wynonna replied, “That was an accident.”

“Getting shot is an ‘accident?’”

“She **did** tell you.”

“Not enough. I don’t know by whom. Or why.” Moving over to the next drawer, Nicole continued her rummaging. The phone in her pocket chimed as the alarm went off again. She turned it off with a sigh, her thumb tracing over the wallpaper of her and Waverly. “…Trust me, Wynonna: I’ve **asked**. But she says I’m better off not knowing, and I trust her.”

_I just wish she could trust me back._

Wynonna sighed this time as she stomped over to the fridge and started palming around the top of it. A moment later, she pulled a pair of paisley-patterned mitts out and tossed them to Nicole.

 _Of course. I was totally gonna check there next,_ Nicole thought sarcastically as she opened the oven door. The rich smell of garlic amplified as she gripped the ends of the ceramic pan. Sauce bubbled at the surface, rich reds mixing with blobs of white cheese.

“Lookit you, Suzy Homemaker,” Wynonna drawled back defensively.

Setting the pan down on the stove to cool, Nicole pulled off the oven mitts and shot Wynonna a confused glance. “This is basic cooking, Wynonna. Do you—do you know how to cook?” She meant the question genuinely, though Nicole couldn’t help adding a slight dig of inflection at the end.

Wynonna cleared her throat, her shoulders rolling in discomfort. She quickly changed the subject. “When did **you** start coming around?”

Nicole smiled back sweetly. “Hey, **you’re** the one who said Waverly should hang out with me. Guess she finally agreed with you.” Pointing at the lasagna, Nicole counted off on her fingers. “I— **We** (Waverly helped)—made enough to last y’all for a couple days. And Dolls, too, wherever he went.”

An eye-rolling shrug in response. “Another perimeter check. Dolls is nothing if not thorough—ly high-strung.”

“I hear that,” Nicole nodded. “He makes the Sheriff look positively laid-back.”

The woman barked a laugh. “Huh. You’re all right, Haught.” Wynonna slammed a fist into Nicole’s shoulder (slightly harder than necessary). “And thanks for the grub.”

Resisting the urge to rub her throbbing shoulder, Nicole gave Wynonna a worried frown. “…Wynonna. Take care of her, okay?”

_She’s… precious to me._

Wynonna nodded back. “I always do.” At Nicole’s withering glance, Wynonna amended, “Er, I always **will**.”

“Better.”

A second later, Waverly bounded into the kitchen, hands pulling her shirt down farther than necessary. Willa was close behind, a small white jar in her hands and that haughty look back on her face.

Hurrying over to the fridge, Waverly dug around for a moment in the top freezer box. She then sidled up next to Nicole to steal a spoon from a drawer before snagging Nicole’s hand. Nicole felt herself being dragged over to the living room and up the stairs.

“Feeling kind of tired, gonna have a snack and say goodbye to Nicole and take a nap BYEEEE!” Waverly called behind her as she pattered up the stairwell with Nicole in tow.

Nicole just shrugged at the older Earp sisters. Wynonna’s interest immediately turned to the lasagna while Willa’s cold eyes followed the two women. There was a head-tilt of curiosity and Willa opened her mouth to speak before Wynonna interrupted her with a wave over to the stove.

The kitchen faded out of sight as Nicole and Waverly climbed to the upper hallway and tucked themselves behind Waverly’s bedroom door with a light slam.

“So,” Nicole observed. “That’s Willa, huh?”

“That’s Willa,” Waverly confirmed with a sigh as she flopped down on the bed, her fingertips rolling around the diameter of the ice cream pint. She seemed to twitch her right shoulder slightly, the inside of her elbow rubbing at the gunshot wound on her ribs.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked as she sat down next to Waverly on the small bed, her arm bracing herself. Even sitting, Nicole was a few inches taller than the woman.

A shrug. “Fine. What did you and Wynonna talk about?”

“Oh, how great my cooking is. And that if anything else happens to you, I’d come for her. In the middle of the night. And make it look like an accident.” Nicole shot Waverly a mock-serious glance when the woman’s head snapped to meet hers.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Waverly pleaded lightly.

“I’m kidding.” Leaning, Nicole bumped her shoulder against Waverly’s. “I just asked her to look out for you, and that you hadn’t told me anything about what had happened. That I’m here for you no matter what, even if I’m in the dark about it.”

Waverly bit her lower lip. “I—thank you, Nicole.” She gave a small smile. “I **promise** I’ll tell you everything when I can. I **promise**.”

“I believe you.”

It was a slow lean into a kiss. They both jerked their heads closer and closer while also trying to listen for Wynonna or Willa. It was Waverly who decided the coast was clear when she pushed forward to capture Nicole’s lips.

A gentle thing of a kiss, sweet and soft. Nicole’s tongue flicked against Waverly’s lower lip to an answering flick a second later. She couldn’t help leaning further over to reach a hand up and smooth fingertips against Waverly’s cheek and jaw. Just soft, reassuring and patient.

They held there a few long moments, heads tilting back and forth. Nicole could feel Waverly’s smile against her cheeks, a small smile that grew into a wide, crinkling one. A few minutes of freedom from an otherwise crazy day—days—week.

Pulling apart slowly, Nicole dropped her hand back down to keep her balance on the shifting mattress. She felt a hand over hers as they held there, foreheads pressed together in quiet solidarity. When Nicole finally opened her eyes, she saw Waverly staring back at her. Those eyes sparkled again with that soft, unreadable smile.

Whispering, Nicole nuzzled her nose against Waverly’s forehead. “I should probably go… before I get us into trouble.”

“What if—what if I want to get into trouble?”

Nicole exhaled a laugh through her nose. “Maybe more than 24 hours after you’ve been shot. We’ve got time.” She paused and pulled back, her eyes glancing at the door significantly. “Preferably time where your sisters and Dolls aren’t five feet away.”

“Maybe—maybe you can come back tomorrow?” Waverly asked hopefully. “Willa said they’re going back to BBD for more hypnosis. She was… frustrated.” Dark worry crossed Waverly’s face.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Nicole checked her work schedule. “I’m working a night shift, so I’ll have to take a nap at some point. I could probably be by the same time tomorrow, though.”

Waverly brightened as she gripped Nicole’s hand. “It’s a date!” She cringed at how loudly she said that before repeating at a whisper, “…it’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” Nicole echoed as she gave Waverly a long goodbye kiss before standing up.

“Wait!” Waverly hissed as she dug her spoon into the pint. She chiseled out a small dollop of bright green ice cream and offered it to Nicole.

Shaking her head, Nicole smiled. “Nah, I’ll savor the suspense. I mean, what’s matcha ice cream without a sexy black dress, right?”

“They do go hand in hand,” Waverly soberly agreed, eyes twinkling. She took a bite of the ice cream and her eyes started to roll back slightly from delight. Gaze narrowing for a second, Waverly took another bite before surging forward to kiss Nicole.

A slight cheat, but Nicole wasn’t one to complain. The kiss was laced with a sweet, earthy, green tea taste. All in all, light and refreshing.

As they pulled apart, Waverly whispered, “Just a preview. You know.” Her shrug was overly casual, if pleased.

Nodding in approval, Nicole licked her lips. “ **That** … I can get behind.” She kissed Waverly’s nose before taking a step back to the door. “See you first thing tomorrow, Wave. Get some rest, okay?”

“Thanks for taking care of me, Nicole.” Waverly gave her best crinkling, genuine smile. “It—it means a lot.”

“Any time.”

Nicole gently shut Waverly’s door behind her. As Nicole adjusted her coat at the bottom of the stairs, she did notice that both Willa and Wynonna stopped talking when they had heard her footsteps.

“See ya tomorrow, Earps,” Nicole said with a wave as she dug around for her car keys.

“Tomorrow? You’re coming back?” Willa seemed dismayed by the news, but changed her disapproval to a more neutral expression when Wynonna elbowed her shoulder.

Offering one last, sweet smile, Nicole replied, “Yep. Waverly asked me to. You guys don’t mind, right? I mean, nothing to hide, right?”

“Uh, right. Right,” Wynonna agreed with a scowl. “Just taking care of Waverly, right?”

Eyes flicking to Willa, Nicole nodded. “Someone has to, right? …See y’all tomorrow! Enjoy the lasagna!”

It would be an understatement to say Nicole relished the nostril-flaring irritation from Willa (Wynonna only nodded back in gratitude).

It would also be an understatement to say Nicole didn't like Willa Earp.

...No, that wasn’t it.

Nicole didn't **trust** Willa Earp. And that worried her more.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing makes you feel more like a writer and/or psycho than googling "gunshot wound/treatment." They did NOT teach that in my CPR/First Aid certification class.


End file.
